You Can Still Dance
by Ash Gray Kitsune
Summary: Any accident is a crushing blow to a human soul, but when you're left in a body half torn apart, it takes more courage to fight for what you once had...but Vincent knows that. VxT, character injury and angst.


**You Can Still Dance**

**Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII, or any of the characters, save for the two or three OC's that appear in this fic. **

**Warnings: Character injury/angst.**

Vincent rolled over, and wondered when Cid would finally shut his damn PHS and go to sleep. Cid had been talking to his wife, Shera, for the last two hours, both of them drunk, while Shera spent some time with Tifa, Yuffie, Elena, and a few of their friends at the local bars. Ordinarily, Vincent didn't mind the semi-loud declarations of love from the pilot; in truth, he encouraged them, hoping to sweeten Cid's temper with subterfuge rather than having to endure the cussing and rages...but he was tired, slightly nauseus from the drinks he'd had, and well aware that as the 'host' for their own party, he'd have to get up early in the morning. As Cid finally started winding down, then hung up, he decided that eggs and bacon were a satisfactory revenge, especially after Cloud and Barret had tried to drag him into a strip club. He sighed, rolling back onto his back and and rubbing his eyes with his good hand. His prosthetic arm ached painfully; he'd twisted badly, and as he idly rubbed the base of his stump, Vincent wondered if maybe it was time to look into a new one. He'd traded out claws for metal fingers, but that was the extent of his modifications; Reeve hadn't had the time to build him an entirely new one. He sighed, crimson eyes closing against the pain, and set his mind to wishing he had gone with the girls tonight instead.

Not that he disliked his male friends, but he was a ladies' man, and there was one particular lady he'd been wanting to spend some time with outside of her bar, or school functions for the children. But poor Tifa had needed this outlet, and he was damned if he was going to spoil it for her, especially when she'd spent far too much time working as it was. He could hear Cloud and Reno moving in the next room; unsurprising to him, and he smiled slightly in the darkness. _That_ had been a shocker for most of the others, though Cloud had pointed out that everyone and their dog had assumed he was gay from the get-go, and that at least he was in a relationship with someone who appreciated his skill and abilities. Barret had been utterly dumbfounded, while Rude had simply tipped his head in a nod and smiled slightly. Cid hadn't cared, nor had Tseng, though the girls had all squeaked and giggled and gushed, and Rufus pouted. It was cute, in a way, though Vincent would never admit to that, even under pain of torture. In fact, he pushed those thoughts away and settled on a pair of long, muscular legs, a trim torso with wide hips and a bust to die for, leading up to a pair of doe-soft eyes framed in dark brown locks, and as his body relaxed, he wondered idly if Tifa had given any more thought to his question before sleep finally...

_RING-RING. RING-RING_. Vincent startled back to full alertness with a curse and a scrabbling for his own PHS, flipping open the rather ornate device, his voice growling out as he tried to make the sudden headache go away with his good hand on his temple.

"Vincent Valentine."

"Mr. Valentine? There's been an accident." His blood cooled at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, and chilled further at the man's words. He stole a glance at the caller ID; it wasn't an number he recognized, so he swallowed and nodded slightly, then realized the man couldn't see him.

"What kind of accident?"

"Do you know a Tifa Lockheart?" His heart froze, and he barely managed to make a sound of affirmative before the man continued. "Miss Lockheart and her friends were riding in a taxi-van when the driver pulled out into oncoming traffic. Two separate vehicles struck the van broadside, turning it on its side and pushing it into the other lanes, where a truck struck the front end. Three of the women, including Miss Lockheart, have been flown to Healin Spa for extensive surgery, while the remaining passengers are being looked at by paramedics. We were given your name and number by a Yuffie Kisaragi, as well as a message." Vincent fought past the lump of ice in his throat and clutched the phone, his voice hoarse.

"A...message?"

"Fly to her." Vincent slammed the phone shut and flung himself out of bed, tearing into his closet for a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt, then grabbing his boots and keys. There was a _slam_ as his feet hit the floor echoed through the small house, startling everyone awake, and it was a half-dressed Cloud who opened his door, blue eyes wide and worried.

"Vincent? What's wrong?"

"Tifa and the girls were in a car wreck. They're heading to Healin now."

"What-WHOA! Vincent, you can't just fly there!" As his wings shot out from his back, Vincent turned and glared at the blonde with eyes more gold than crimson, and snarled.

"The hell I can't! She needs me, and all of you had better get your asses moving. Now go!" With that, he burst out of his balcony doors and took to the starlit night, banking upwards to avoid the tall buildings that made up Edge's skyline. Healin wasn't too far, but he was thankful for the thermals still radiating from the concrete and asphalt; every little bit helped speed him on his way.

Yuffie ran to her friends with a sob as Cloud pulled up behind Cid's truck, Reno perched on the back of Fenrir, and it was Barret who stumbled out of the truck bed and caught the little ninja and swept her up into a bear hug. She'd be taken to Healin as well, once her concussion had been checked out and deemed dangerous enough to warrent a little extra care, but left alone in the waiting room had done a number on her psyche. As Barret cradled and soothed her, Cid stubbed out his cigerette and went inside to ask about Shera, his blue eyes scared and weary. Tseng had stalked past everyone to look in on Elena, while Rude stood guard over Rufus in the former president's limo. Reno joined him after pushing Cloud towards the building, and the young mercenary swallowed nervously, one hand going up to run through his spiky hair. He wanted to see his best friend...but he did not want to fight with Vincent about it. He knew how the gunman felt about her; probably better than even Vincent did. But he still didn't want to seem like he was getting between them. He wanted Tifa to be happy...

"Cloud?" Yuffie had calmed down enough to be set down, and she came over to the blond, cuddling close, her eyes still wet. "Vincent's back in the waiting room, so you don't have to go in just yet." He smiled slightly, and hugged her shoulders.

"Thanks, Yuff. Did they say anything?" She shook her head, but she still looked a little green as she replied softly.

"They...they had to cut her out of the van, Cloud..."

He sat near her bedside once the doctors and nurses finally left, and felt his heart contract a little at the lost, dead look in her eyes. Tifa had indeed been cut out of the van, but it wasn't metal that the rescuers had had to slice. Most of her left leg was gone; below her right knee was missing as well. And her left arm...he held up his own, and stared at it, seeing his damaged flesh superimposed over hers. She had been sitting on the outer middle seat in the van, in the exact spot the first truck had hit them. The driver was dead; lucky for him, because Vincent still wanted to tear his throat out. Yuffie had been in the middle, and Shera on the other side, with Elena and the other two girls in back. Shera was just across the hall, still asleep with her internal injuries, with Elena in the other bed sliced nearly to pieces. All six of them would live, that much was a blessing; but whether they would be able to endure the healing process left a lot to chance. The only one good thing was that no one was burned; when the second truck had it, it'd ripped the engine clean out, taking the fuel lines and tank with it. So, there were a lot of cuts, but nothing that would make it impossible to him to hold her.

Vincent took her remaining hand and stroked her knuckles, laying a soft kiss on her palm as he turned it over. That triggered a tiny response, and those mournful eyes turned to face him, swirling with pain and despair. He leaned up to kiss her temple then, and pulled a little away, his good hand cupping her face as he settled on her hospital bed.

"Tifa, there is something you need to see. Something that will make you realize that you can continue living, even with these injuries." She closed her eyes and sighed, two tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Vincent, there's no need to coddle me. I know what happened...and I know how damaged I am..." He frowned, and tipped her head up, kissing the tears away.

"I don't care about that."

"You should...no one wants a girlfriend who can't even walk." He growled softly, and caught her head in his hands, forcing her eyes to open and stare up into his. She looked startled, and very apprehensive, though part of that was likely the heavy painkillers she was on.

"That is _not_ true. You know full well how I feel about you, and how much I admire and need you. Please..." His voice softened, and he brushed his lips over hers. "I love you, Tifa, and yes, I do love your body as much as your mind. I am not going to be disgusted with anything that has been done...because if I were, I'd be the biggest hypocrite in the world." Her fingers brushed his metal hand, and he nodded. "But that's not the only one." He reached down to where his right leg was crooked on the bed, slid his boot off, and worked his fingers up the inside of his jeans, searching for a peculiar clasp...with a pop and sucking sound, his foot prosthetic separated from his leg and he leaned over to settle it on the floor. She looked shocked, and he had to smile a little.

"I never knew..." He chuckled lightly and did the same to his other leg, though this one was a little longer, with a knee joint due to the way Hojo had blown out that knee cap out of spite.

"No one else does. I made it a point to never tell anyone, for fear of it being used as a weakness...and truthfully, the prosthetics were top-quality, made by Professor Gast ages ago. He had saved them back, and I suspect now they were for me, or someone near enough my size, because they are a perfect fit."

"That's why this doesn't bother you..."

"Yes, it is. Honestly, my love, I find you more beautiful now than before, and I found you quite gorgeous before. Please..." He pulled off his final false limb and laid it aside, then swung his legs around and wrapped his good arm around her torso gently, snuggling her head into his chest. "Please don't let the despair take you. I will help you through the physical therapy, and we can bully Reeve into making you a matching set, just like mine..." She laughed softly, her eyes filling with tears again.

"I'll do my best...but Vincent, I..." She started crying in earnest, gasping with sobs as the realization finally set in...and he held her close, soothing her wordlessly with touch and soft kisses. He knew, too well, that her recovery would take months; even the best medicine and Heal materia to be found could only do so much if her depression got in the way of the healing, and it would be his job to snap her out of it long enough to insure that something worked. He knew that, of course; knew that it would be hard for a long time. But for now, right now, he ran his hand through her hair as she cried, waiting until the pain overwhelmed her tears before helping her settle back into the bed. Slowly, she calmed, her eyes growing heavy and swollen, her nose an adorable shade of red. He kissed her brow, then her lips, stroking her neck tenderly.

"Vincent...?"

"Yes, Tifa?"

"...Is that why you dance so well?" He smiled warmly and kissed her again.

"Yes. And you can still dance as well, my love. It's just to a different tune."

***sighs, screws up face a little* I feel like it's not quite right, but I don't know what's wrong. Anyone else feel that way?**


End file.
